Some of the most active entries on this blog is our devotion that appears each Sunday. I get feedback from people who enjoy the devotion who don’t share it with anyone. Others tell me that they use the devotion occasionally to teach or share with a group. This week, I wanted to share one about two of my favorite subjects–the resurrection and my mother.

He Is Alive

Matthew 28:6

Central Theme: Jesus is not dead; he is alive.

Introduction–Tell the story from Matthew 28:1-15 Two women were coming. There was an earthquake. An angel appeared. The stone was rolled away. The soldier saw the angel. They fainted The women came up and the angel told them. He is Alive! Go! Tell the disciples.” As they went back to the disciples, Jesus appeared. Have a member read Matthew 28:6.

I. Before my mother died I struggled with my prayers for my mother.

A. She was an amazing woman, the best Christian I ever met.

B. I love her and I will miss her everyday.

C. But when she died, she went to be with Jesus.

1. That will makes her happy.

II. Because of the resurrection of Jesus, we have great hope.

A. I know that Jesus lives.

B. I know that Jesus has taken the stringer out of death.

1. Did you know that when a bee stings, it looses its stinger and dies

C. Jesus took the stinger from death and we don‘t have to worry anymore.

We all understand that our federal government is divided into three co-equal branches. There is the executive branch, the legislative and the judicial branches. The purpose of these three branches of government is to insure that the people of the US receive justice. You see, very few people (masses or individuals) are just. We tend to see things through the biases with which we have been raised and in which we live.

During the history of the Jewish people, especially during the time of Ezekiel, the nation God had chosen was being punished because they were wicked. In fact, Ezekiel tells us that they were so evil that they thought God was the one who was bad. In reality, we all live with a hint of that suspicion dwelling in our minds and seeping into our hearts.

Before I became a parent, I thought my mother and father were mean and hateful. Then I had children; and I understood that they were simply trying to mold us into mature adults. In fact, I often think that they were kind of soft on us. I know of other parents who decided that they would be harder on their children because their parents were too easy. “I thought my folks were tough but I’ve realized that they were wimps,” one neighbor confessed, while nursing a steaming cup of coffee.

The reality is that we cannot understand God. Therefore, because his actions are so foreign to us, we think that God is mean. The executive director and pastor of The Special Gathering often says that we can only see things through our own perspective. That means that we understand what is happening from the way we see it.

Even though, it’s a hard lesson, we must learn to trust God and believe that His way is right no matter what happens. Years ago, I was taking my children to the beach. Usually, I would put the car keys in my pocket and lock my pocketbook in the trunk. That day, scruffling to get everything out to the ocean, I forgot to lock my car and my purse up.

That night, I went to the car to get something out of my pocketbook and realized that my purse was gone. I climbed back into the car, attempting to re-track my steps. All the time I was driving, I was doing spiritual battle with myself. That day, while sitting at the beach, watching my children play, I had promised the Lord that when bad things happened, I would no longer blame Him but I would realize that I was to blame and take on the guilt for my mistakes.

Prior to this day, my carnal logic was that because I turn everything over to the Lord, He should keep me from doing stupid things. Of course, it’s not godly thinking but it was my thinking.

As I scouring the community for my pocketbook that had our checkbook, credit cards and pretty much all of our financial lifeblood in it, I kept struggling with myself to acknowledge that God was not to blame for this problem. Again and again, I would say out loud, “Lord, I know this isn’t your fault. I know that I lost the pocketbook, not you.” My mouth was saying one thing but my heart wanted to scream “God, why did you let this happen to ME?” Finally, I said, “Lord, it doesn’t matter how I feel. I know that you are not to blame. I made the mistake. I am to blame. I will not blame you.”

As I walked into the door from my desperate searching, the phone was ringing. “This is the Rockledge police department. We have your pocketbook. Can you come and get it?” That night I experienced a clear act of God’s mercy and grace. I learned to not blame God for my mistakes. God is not responsible for my goofing up.

As a merciful bonus, I only had $.47 in my wallet. The thieves took the money. Then they tossed everything into the bushes on a lonely, almost deserted road. A car behind them happened to see them toss the pocketbook. He stopped, retieved my purse and took it to the police department. Nothing was missing. None of the credit cards had been used.

The Lord used this driver, even a couple of thieves to teach me a valuable lesson about His justice. Because we are people who do not really understand what is right, we need God to help us understand. Many times he uses other people to teach us about his loving and just ways.

Hunter Spanjer is a three-year-old child who attends a deaf school in Nebraska. Like many young deaf children, he is proficient in signing. He uses the standard S.E.E. (Signing Exact English) method. The problem is that his school district believes that the way the child signs his name “Hunter” looks like a weapon. Hunter’s parents have been asked to change his name because the school district has a strict “no gun policy.”

The sign for Hunter’s name is similar to the ASL sign for an R. However, like most names, his parents have stylized the sign to become Hunter’s unique name. The sign to signify Hunter’s name moves in a circle. The school district believes this is a violation of their policy because it looks like Hunter may be pointing a gun.

This entire episode has caused a national outcry. Perhaps political correctness has finally gone too far. Asking this child to change his name is not only ridiculous; but it will be confusing for the three year old who is already dealing with a disability.

His parents have decided that they will not submit to the pressure put on their son; and they have set up an FaceBook page to establish public support for the child. Various news organizations have also picked up the issue. Their story has appeared on various news shows, including CBS and FOX.

This is a part of the Edgewood United Methodist Church News. Think you will enjoy it.

American Sign Language

WrittenBy Herb “Padre” Agee

Engle­wood United Methodist Church

When I was 40 years old, I was pas­tor at a small, strug­gling, inner city church in Lake­land. I’m not sure where I got the idea, but I took a sign lan­guage class. The teacher was a deaf woman who was also an ordained Assem­bly of God min­is­ter. She had attended South­east­ern Col­lege in Lake­land, which is an Assem­bly of God school. I took sev­eral classes from her and started learn­ing to sign. I even took some classes at the com­mu­nity college.

The next year I moved to Rock­ledge to become the chap­lain at Wuesthoff Hos­pi­tal. After a while, some­one dis­cov­ered that I could sign a lit­tle bit. They started call­ing me when a deaf per­son came into the hos­pi­tal to reg­is­ter as a patient.

I quickly informed those who needed to know that the hos­pi­tal was required by law to pro­vide “real” inter­preters for deaf patients and to have TTY’s avail­able so they could use the hos­pi­tal phone in their room. The TTY or TDDallows the phone to become a type­writer of sorts so the deaf patient can com­mu­ni­cate with fam­ily and friends who also have a TTY. Cell phones, tex­ting, the inter­net and emails have almost made the TTY sys­tem obso­lete, but at the time, it was the only way for the deaf to com­mu­ni­cate by phone.

We bought sev­eral to have avail­able and I made con­tact with some inter­preters to have on call if we needed them. This kept me from hav­ing to take the legal respon­si­bil­ity of sign­ing impor­tant med­ical infor­ma­tion between doc­tors, nurses and deaf patients. I wasn’t that good!

One day, a deaf patient came in to reg­is­ter for a test with­out us know­ing he was com­ing. We usu­ally had an inter­preter there wait­ing for them. Not this time, so… “Who do you call?” You guessed it! The chaplain!

I went down to help with the reg­is­tra­tion process, think­ing that was all that was needed – but, no, he was hav­ing an ultra­sound of his kid­ney right after he reg­is­tered. There was no time to get an inter­preter and he did not want to have to come back later, so with his under­stand­ing of my lim­ited abil­ity to sign and read his sign­ing (oh, did he under­stand), we went into the test.

I tried to com­mu­ni­cate every­thing that was hap­pen­ing, but as they were doing the ultra­sound of the kid­ney, I was watch­ing the screen, which he could not see. He signed, “What’s going on?” I responded, “I think you’re pregnant.”

I think all ultra­sounds look like a baby.

He laughed and laughed, and the tech­ni­cian looked at me, won­der­ing why he was laugh­ing dur­ing the test. I just shrugged as if I didn’t know. We made it through the test, though.

I later met his wife and went out to din­ner with them and some of their deaf friends one night. Grad­u­ally my con­nec­tion with the deaf and my sign­ing slowed until I lost touch and, as with any lan­guage, “use it or lose it.”

Recently I’ve been drawn back to sign lan­guage. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’m 60 years old and many peo­ple I try to com­mu­ni­cate with are strug­gling with their hear­ing. Some of them have admit­ted to it and are try­ing to get use to hear­ing aids and some of them are liv­ing in denial and try­ing to get by with a lit­tle sound and a lit­tle lip reading.

My niece has a child who’s a lit­tle over a year old. She and many other peo­ple are teach­ing their chil­dren some signs because babies can learn to com­mu­ni­cate with sign much ear­lier than they can talk.

Candy and I were dis­cussing this the other night and I said, “Wouldn’t it be great if every­one was taught sign lan­guage as a child and as every­one talked they would also be sign­ing what they were say­ing? Then, if some­one started los­ing their hear­ing, they would always know what was being said because of the sign lan­guage.” No one would ever be kept out of the com­mu­ni­ca­tion, even the deaf. They would be able to com­mu­ni­cate with any­one and not feel iso­lated from the hear­ing community.

Richard Stim­son, who leads The Spe­cial Gath­er­ing, which is a church for the men­tally chal­lenged, once told me a story. It was about a man whose whole min­istry as a pas­tor had been in the deaf com­mu­nity. As he sat beside the bed of a deaf saint who was dying, he asked her, “What do you look for­ward to most about heaven?” Her reply was, “That every­one will know how to sign.” She had no con­cept of want­ing to “hear,” but she wanted to be able to “com­mu­ni­cate” with everyone.

Guess what? God knows sign language!

I’m study­ing ASL again. I’m not sure why. If I lose my hear­ing com­pletely; none of my friends or fam­ily will know sign lan­guage. But, maybe I will be able to slip into the deaf com­mu­nity for friend­ship and communication.

Any­way, if any of you are inter­ested in learn­ing ASL, which is Amer­i­can Sign Lan­guage, be sure to check out the web­site: www.lifeprint.com. It is a great learn­ing site, and it’s free.

Maybe God has a new min­istry for me down the road — deaf motor­cy­cle rid­ers. Who knew? But with the loud pipes and road noise, it could hap­pen. Unfor­tu­nately, most of the bik­ers only know one sign. You’ve prob­a­bly seen it used in traffic.
Read more: http://blog.beliefnet.com/simplelife/#ixzz24sMLYO9D

In the early 1990’s when Nancy became a consumer at ARC in Vero Beach, Florida, she told her supported living coach, that her life goals were to bleach her hair blonde and go to California to become Marilyn Monroe. Bleaching her hair blonde was easy, getting her to California, proved harder.

Nancy was never a person who fostered small dreams or ideas. Born in Charleston, West Virginia, Nancy was 15 years younger than her sister, Roxanne. But Roxanne took her everywhere. When I inquired about this, Roxanne said, emphatically, “Of course, I took her everywhere. She was my little sister.” Nancy was born with Down’s Syndrome; but she never allowed her disability drive her into a corner. Perhaps “hanging” with her teenage sister fostered those large dreams and desires.

Nancy’s life in West Virginia revolved around swimming, summer camp, school, then ARC, the singer, John Denver, The Monkees and her best friend, Susie. Nancy and Susie were together throughout their school years and at ARC. Eventually, they became roommates.

When the unthinkable happened and Susie was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Susie was moved into a nursing home. Out of compassion, her parents believed that it was best for Nancy that she not see Susie again. But when Roxanne and Gary came to visit the family and heard, “We threw a fit,” Roxanne said. The parents gave in and Nancy was allowed to see Susie. Later, as the disease took its grip on Susie’s life, she moved back in with Nancy. “Susie died in Nancy’s arms,” Roxanne reported.

As the health of her parents grew more frail, Nancy and her mother and father moved to Vero Beach. It was here that Nancy revealed her desire to become Marilyn Monroe. She adopted Star Wars and wrestling as a new passion. Friday night was “Smack Down” Night. Nancy and her friend, Annie, spent their Friday evenings with The Rock, Chris Jericho, The Undertaker and Stone Cold.

Her one enduring joy, however, was men. Most men she found attractive; and she was convinced that nearly every men found her irresistible. She often recited the men that she was soon marry. However, in the middle of her list, she would stop and say, “No. I think I’ll just marry Jackie,” who was her black cat.

One evening, Nancy and her roommate decided to go out to dinner. They called a cab and told the driver to take them to The Patio restaurant. They ordered dinner and wined and dined for several hours. Finally, when the waiter came with the bill, he discovered that the two charming ladies had not brought any money with them. Undisturbed, Nancy said, “Call my supportive living coach, Diane. She’ll take care of the bill.”

Fortunately, the restaurant owner did know Diane. He called her and explained the situation. Diane arrived, paid the bill and began an intense retraining program regarding appropriate behaviors in a public restaurant which included emphasis on the fact that you always have enough money with you when you go out to eat.

It was my privilege to carry Nancy to and from Special Gathering for about seven or eight years. She and I would have great conversations about the Lord but Nancy didn’t always have her theology correct. “I love Jesus,” she told me one week. “But I’m not a Christian.”

Of course, I could not let that go without questions. “Nancy, have you asked Jesus to forgive you for the bad things you have done?” Yes. “Have you asked Jesus to come into your heart and be your best friend and your boss?” Yes. “Then, Nancy, you are a Christian.

“No, I’m not,” she said with emphasis, “I’m an Episcopalian.” Most weeks, she told me that she wasn’t a Christian, she was an Episcopalian. Then some weeks, she was a Methodist. I think she died an Episcopalian.

Nancy was never a weak person; but she wasn’t ashamed to go to the Lord for strength and comfort. She often asked for prayer. For many years, she sang in the Special Gathering choir. She would share her faith wherever we sang by her great smile and winning ways. “Nancy was always smiling,” so many people said after she died.

Joanne was her caregiver for several years before she had to go into the nursing home because of Alzheimer’s. She, Annie, Laurie and Eric often visited Nancy as her health declined. Nancy always remembered Annie’s name and recognized Laurie. She would smile and put out her hand reaching for each visitor. Of course, Nancy never lost her ability to flirt. Even at their last visit a few days before she died, Nancy threw kisses at Eric.

At last, her body gave out and she slipped silently into the arms of her Lord, who is also an Episcopalian and a Methodist. She has left us but we have our memories. Her smile. Her joy. And I will always remember our conversations about the Lord in the night as I drove her home from a choir performance or Special Gathering.

Introduction–If I have a cup of water and I pour it on to this rag, what will happen? The rag will get wet. (If appropriate pour the water on to the floor. If not pour it into a saucer or rag.) This rag is wet and it will be wet for a long time; but it will dry. If I slap Sam in the face, will it hurt? Yes. I can’t instantly make this rag dry again. If I hit Sam, I can‘t take it back ever. Folks, we find ourselves in a mess. Because we sin and we can’t take the bad things back. We can’t make the rag dry instantly. And we cannot make the slap not hurt. But there is one thing we have. We can get God’s forgiveness when we sin.

Have a member read Psalm 86:5.

I. Tell the story of David and Bathsheba from 2 Samuel 11 and 2 Samuel 12.

1. David slept with Bathsheba; then he killed her husband.

2. God told David that he was a sinner.

II. David asked God to forgive him.

A. God did forgive David.

1. God says that David was a man whose heart was like God‘s more than 200 years after this incident.

2. But David had sinned and even God’s forgiveness did not take away the results of those sins.

B. David‘s little son died and many other bad things happened to David’s family after that.

III. God forgives but he does not always take away the bad effects of those sins. –ex There was a woman who became a Christian after she had killed someone. She was sentenced to death. Even though she was a Christian, she still had to die.